Homecoming
by Rainack
Summary: When life interferes with Fate's well laid plans, can Fate reassert itself to insure Greg and Nick end up together? N/G slash. Rated M for later chapter s . Angst will ensue. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own them, really wish I did!

Homecoming

Chapter 1

Millie Durant hefted another box of supplies from the counter of the small grocery store she owned and operated. As she lugged it toward the front door, she watched the young man she's sold a sandwich and soda to earlier.

He was munching his sandwich while eyeing the bulletin board near the door. As he finished his sandwich, he seemed to come to some kind of decision. After wiping his hands on his faded blue jeans, he fingered a help wanted sign, then pulled it down.

She knew exactly what that sign said, since she'd created it and talked Nick into letting her post it. This was the first interest anyone had shown in it since she'd posted it over a month ago.

Now, she paused, running a critical eye up and down the young man's physique. He was about six feet tall, slim, with shaggy brown hair spiked with gel. He was boyishly handsome, and as he realized she was watching him, he looked up and she saw he had eyes the lightest shade of brown she'd ever seen.

"If you're interested, I can give you a lift out tot he Stokes' ranch. I've gotta take a load of supplies and groceries out there for the owner," Millie said, as she shifted her grip on the box.

A grin split his face, and he said, "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Grab your gear, then, and if you get that last box on the counter, we can go," Millie replied, motioning to the remaining box with her head.

As he slung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the box, Millie introduced herself, "I'm Millie Durant. I own this place."

"Greg Sanders," the young man replied. "Just passing through, but I need some cash..." he trailed off as he walked out the door into the late summer Texas heat.

The town was small, Millie's store being the only grocery. There was one gas station, but several feed and tack shops. Ranching seemed to be the town's main economy. Greg wasn't even sure of the town's name, all he knew was that it was several miles from Dallas.

Millie had placed her box in the bed of her Silverado, then took Greg's, adding it next to hers.

He noted with a whistle that the entire bed was taken up with boxes and even two huge ice chests. "That's a lot of groceries."

"Nick doesn't get out much, and I can really only deliver every two to three weeks," Millie replied, as she climbed into the sweltering cab.

Millie brought the engine roaring to life as Greg climbed into the passenger side. After adjusting the A/C, she backed the big truck out of its space and headed down the road.

Eyeing the large hiker's backpack, complete with tightly rolled sleeping bag, Millie said, "Just passing through, huh?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I just finished my masters at Berkeley. Kinda wanted to see what the world was all about before settling down," an embarrassed flush settled over his features.

"So you're, what? Hiking your way across the country?" Millie asked, intrigued.

"Sounds corny, but yeah. It's been a real adventure, though," Greg looked out the window, watching the land slide by.

This time of summer, there was very little green. Most of the vegetation was brown and lifeless.

"What did you go to school for?"

"Chemistry and DNA extraction," he replied easily. "I wanted to work in a crime lab. Maybe San Francisco, or Las Vegas. Not sure, yet."

"You should get on well with Nick, then. He was a crime scene investigator in Dallas for two years, before his parents died and left him the ranch. I think he was supposed to transfer out to Vegas, when the accident happened."

Greg made a sound in the back of his throat. He wasn't too sure he wanted to know the man's whole life story. _After all,_ Greg thought, _I'm not going to be here more than a month or so, anyway._

The rest of the long ride was spent in silence.

After two hours on the paved road, Millie turned the truck off onto a dirt road. There was an arched sign over the dirt road, which read "Stokes Double S Ranch." They spent close to another hour bumping along at about twenty miles per hour on the pot holed track before they pulled up to a sprawling two story ranch house.

"I see why you only make this trip every couple of weeks," Greg said, as he climbed down from the truck, slinging his backpack to his shoulder.

"It's part of the reason Nick doesn't get out much, either," Millie replied, moving around to the back of the truck to lower the tail gate.

Greg was shielding his eyes with a hand, gazing at the house, a peculiar sense of homecoming settling over him, when Millie bellowed, "Nicky!"

Whirling around, Greg yelped, "Geez, give a guy a heart attack!"

A sheepish smile spread over Millie's face, but she didn't apologize, only bellowed, "Nicky!" again.

Shaking her head, Millie said, "Probably out riding the fence line. Come on, let's get this unpacked and we'll go saddle up a couple of the horses and go find him."

Shrugging, Greg muttered, "Sure, whatever."

Grabbing a box, Millie carried it up onto the wrap-around porch to the door. Resting her knee against the wall near the door, she balanced the box on her knee and twisted the door knob with her freed right hand.

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to leave the door unlocked like that?" Greg asked from where he stood behind her, holding another box.

"Out here!" Millie scoffed, "You're kidding, right?"

The tips of Greg's ears reddened in embarrassment. "Guess the secret's out that I'm a city boy," he laughed a moment later.

As he followed Millie into the house, Greg knew he should feel strange to be entering the house of someone he hadn't even met, but the sense of homecoming returned a bit stronger than before.

He tried to shake it off. This wasn't his home, never would be. He was just passing through, hoping to earn a little money to get him through to wherever he ended up next.

Pushing the feeling firmly into a little box in his mind, he concentrated on helping Millie unload the truck.

They both made several trips over the perfectly polished hardwood floors from the door to the kitchen and back.

Greg estimated the house dated back to the sixties, but he could tell the kitchen had been recently renovated and updated.

As he set the boxes on the island, they slid easily over the polished granite counter top. Stainless steel appliances glinted in the muted sunlight streaming in through the darkly tinted window over the composite granite sink.

Looking through the window, Greg could easily see why the renovator had decided on the dark tinting as opposed to blinds or curtains.

A small but well tended lawn, surrounded by colorful flowers, was only part of the magnificent view. The rest was a green pasture surrounded by white double rail fencing. In the pasture was a small herd of horses, about a dozen, Greg guessed.

The graceful creatures were grazing contentedly, tails flicking at flies periodically.

He didn't realize he'd been staring until Millie came back in a moment later, rolling one of the huge ice chests.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Wondering what it would be like to stand here, a cup of his favorite Blue Hawaiian coffee in hand, as the sun rose, Greg replied, "Very!"

Millie rolled the ice chest into the walk-in pantry, and began unloading it into the second stainless steel refrigerator. As she worked, she called to Greg, "Why don't you bring in the other ice chest for me."

"Sure thing," Greg replied, tearing his eyes from the view out the window.

He heard Millie muttering to herself, but only caught what sounded like, "Good grief, Nicky! You've been at it again!" and wondered what this mysterious Nicky had been up to.

Greg was wrestling with the second ice chest – wondering just how Millie had managed to get the thing into the truck bed, as it must weigh a ton – when the sound of hooves on the hard packed drive signaled that he was no longer alone.

Suddenly wary, but not sure why, he turned, eyes traveling up to a booted foot first, where it rested in the stirrup he could see.

From the cowboy boot, his gaze wandered up a jean clad leg to abs, a broad chest, and thick biceps, encased in a blue T-shirt.

Light brown eyes met Stetson shaded deep coffee brown eyes, and Greg felt his stomach flip.

Nick climbed down from the saddle of the roan, and dropped the reins to the ground. Pulling his T-shirt up by the hem, he dragged it across his sweat slicked face.

Greg caught a flash of rock hard abs and golden tanned skin with a brush of dark body hair.

There was that feeling of homecoming again, as if this were where he was meant to be.

Pushing his shirt haphazardly back into the waist of his jeans, Nick said, "Is Millie in there rearranging my refrigerator again?"

Greg managed to answer without a hitch, "Yeah, I think so."

At that moment, Millie called out, "Hey, Greg! Where's that other ice chest?" Then she was striding out to the porch, blinking in the sudden brightness. "Oh, hey, Nicky!" she smiled at Nick. "I see you've met Greg."

"No, not really. Hadn't gotten around to introductions, yet," Nick replied.

"Oh, well," Millie trailed off for a moment, then, "Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders. Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes. He's here because of the sign."

"Okay. Great!" Nick replied, sticking out a deeply tanned and work worn hand for Greg to shake.

Greg got the distinct impression Nick thought his presence was anything but great, as he shook Nick's hand.

As he pulled his hand back, Greg tried to appease the other man with, "I won't be here long. A month, maybe two."

Suddenly remembering the ice chest, Greg gestured at it and cocked his head to the side as he regarded Millie's slight frame, "How the hell did you get that chest up here?"

Smirking at Greg, Millie pushed him out of the way, opened the chest, and pulled out two full paper sacks. "I put it on the truck, then filled it." Hefting the two sacks, she said, "Try it now."

Nick snorted, and followed Millie into the house, leaving Greg to lift the considerably lighter ice chest to the ground.

Millie was unloading the two bags into the main refrigerator when Greg rolled the ice chest into the kitchen.

Nick was leaning against the kitchen island. He'd taken his hat off – setting it behind him on the counter – revealing short cut black hair. He was draining a bottle of water, his head thrown back as the last few mouthfuls left the bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each swallow.

His thirst slaked, Nick regarded Greg. "Ever worked around livestock or ridden a horse before?" he asked.

"No, but I'm a quick learner," Greg replied, trying to shove that feeling of belonging firmly away. From the way Nick was reacting to his presence, Greg knew he wasn't welcome.

"Well, I guess you can muck the stalls and feed the horses, until you learn to ride well enough to ride the fences with me. Less for me to do in the afternoons."

Millie was just finishing up with the ice chest. "There you go, Nicky. Lay off fixing chilli! I swear, you've got enough in the freezer to last until the apocalypse!"

Nick sighed in exasperation, "Millie, I've told you before, it's easy to make and freeze, easy to defrost and eat. I don't have time to cook every night."

Pulling the ice chest behind her, Millie stopped in front of Nick. Stretching up on her tip toes, she moved to kiss him on the lips, but he twisted his head to the side at the last minute, and her lips hit his cheek, instead.

As she pulled back, Millie said, "Okay, Nicky," as if he'd spoken. "See you in a couple weeks. Be sure and call if you need anything besides the usual."

"Yeah, okay," Nick replied.

Greg got the feeling that Nick was relieved the woman was finally leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The morning sun was just rising over the mountains in the east, as Greg yawned and stepped out the door after Nick.

The afternoon before, Nick had shown Greg around the ranch, and told him some of the things that needed to be done. After a brief demonstration of how to muck out the stalls, Nick had left to attend his own chores.

When Nick hadn't returned by the time Greg was done with the stalls, Greg had taken it upon himself to go inside and fix dinner. It appeared he'd be doing most of the cooking during his time on the ranch, as Nick seemed to enjoy the spaghetti and garlic bread he'd whipped up.

Greg prayed he could find a way to get the other man to relax around him. Nick was so tense in his presence that Greg was sure a butter knife could cut through the tension.

Now they were heading out to the stable for Greg's first riding lesson.

As they walked down the isle of the stable, equine heads popped over stall doors, whickering at Nick in greeting. He stopped at each stall, talking to the horse, and scratching its long face.

The first genuine smile Greg had seen crept across Nick's face and the tension in his body eased. Where his strides had seemed measured and stiff on the walk to the stable, now they were fluid and graceful.

Stopping in front of the next stall, Nick picked up the halter from its hook next to the sliding stall door.

"Hey, Copper! How ya doing?" Nick asked, as he slipped the halter over the roan's head.

Greg noted this was the same horse Nick had been riding the day before.

After pushing the stall door open, Nick lead the horse out, and dropped the lead rope to the dirt floor.

"Aren't you afraid he'll walk away?" Greg asked, as he watched Nick continue down the isle to another horse.

"He's trained to stay put if I drop a rein or the lead rope to the ground. They all are," Nick replied, as he took another horse from its stall.

Greg carefully walked around Copper, over to Nick, when Nick motioned him over.

"This is Missy. She's a sweetheart," Nick said, as he patted the dun colored horse's neck.

Missy turned to look at Greg, stretching her nose toward him for a sniff.

She snorted and stamped a hoof, making Nick laugh.

This was the first time Greg had heard him laugh, and he found himself wanting to hear it again.

Patting Missy's neck again, Nick told the horse, "Remember, you're bigger than him!"

Greg shot Nick a sidelong glance, and quipped, "Hey, don't go giving her any ideas!"

Nick laughed again, "Don't worry, G! She's a gentle giant. Come on, I'll show you how to use the hoof pick."

Pulling said tool from a small cubby hole attached to the wall outside of Copper's stall, Nick began to clean out the gelding's hooves.

When he was done, he handed Greg the pick.

Their fingers brushed, as Greg took the tool by the handle from Nick. Nick pulled his hand back quickly, a scowl crossing his face, his shoulders tensing.

Greg badly wanted to tell Nick that he wasn't going to hurt him, but felt that that would probably only make things worse.

Rarely had Greg's gaydar been wrong. He knew it wasn't wrong now. He knew Nick was gay. He was even pretty sure Nick admitted he was gay – at least to himself, if not to others. He was also convinced that Nick had no intentions what so ever of _ever_ acting on it. Nick had instead chosen to hide.

This entire time, Greg had been trying to pick up Missy's front left hoof. Her weight stayed firmly on that foot. Nick had made it look so easy.

"Lean into her shoulder," Nick advised, trying to keep a smirk off his face.

As Greg leaned into her, Missy shifted her weight, and now Greg was able to lift her foot and clean it.

Nick went through each step of grooming and saddling this way.

Once Missy was fully saddled, Nick said, "Put your left foot in the stirrup and pull yourself up into the saddle."

Greg did as he was told, fumbling with his right foot to get it in the other stirrup. He sat looking down at Nick, waiting for his next instruction.

Taking hold of Greg's boot, he twisted it so Greg's toes pointed forward. "Keep your toes pointed straight ahead and grip with your thighs. Don't hold onto the saddle horn."

Greg held the reins loosely in his hand, not quite sure what he should do with them, so Nick reached up and adjusted Greg's grip.

When Greg's thumb brushed across the back of Nick's hand, Nick pulled his hand back as if it had been burned. Then he backed up quickly, before spinning around and bolting towards Copper.

Pulling himself into the saddle, Nick turned Copper around almost before he was fully seated and sent him out of the stable at a gallop. It dawned on him several moments later that he was supposed to be teaching Greg to ride, and he'd left Greg sitting on Missy in the stable.

The panic Greg had seen on Nick's face as he'd pulled his hand away had hurt. He wanted Nick so badly. He'd never wanted anyone like this before.

Fate. He believed in Fate. He was sure they were supposed to meet in Vegas. It's where Nick would've been if his parents hadn't died. Greg was sure he would've been there, too.

Greg came to the conclusion that he had to do something. He had to get Nick to see that they belonged together.

Greg began to plan.

"Oh, God! I'm sore!" Greg groaned, as he walked into the house.

Nick had reappeared from his chores earlier today than he had the day before. A tense smirk crossed his face, as he watched Greg trying to stretch the knots out of his abused muscles.

"There's a jacuzzi tub in my parents' bathroom, if you want to use it," Nick said quietly. He still considered the room at the end of the upstairs hall to be his parents', hadn't even touched anything in there since they'd died. He had used the tub on occasion, though.

"Oh!" Greg moaned, "That sounds unbelievably good!"

His ears burning bright red, Nick sighed, "Come on, I'll show you."

The master bathroom was huge. One corner held the jacuzzi tub, which was easily big enough for two. The other corner held a walk in shower, again big enough for two. One wall held a his and hers sink. The toilet was shielded by a large linen cabinet.

From the cabinet, Nick pulled a set of towels for Greg to use.

Closing the tub's drain, Greg started the water. Before Nick had a chance to leave the room, Greg pulled his sweat stained T-shirt off over his head, giving Nick a view of his tanned chest and stomach.

Turning away quickly, Nick mumbled, "I'll go heat up dinner."

Greg was quicker than Nick, reaching out and grabbing Nick's wrist before Nick could escape. Pulling Nick to him, so they were inches apart and face to face, Greg watched Nick's eyes widen.

Desire and panic warred in those deep brown eyes.

Greg kept his hand around Nick's wrist, but didn't touch him anywhere else. Instead, he leaned forward so his mouth was close to Nick's ear and roughly whispered, "Don't fight it, Nicky! I don't know how long I'll be able to keep my hands off of you!"

Releasing Nick's wrist, Greg backed up until he hit the counter. His hands gripped the edge so hard his knuckles were white.

Nick just stood there, rooted to the spot, a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

"You'd better leave now, or I don't know what I might do," Greg's voice came out strained and hoarse.

Nodding dumbly, Nick finally seemed to regain his motor skills. Turning, he scrambled from the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

As Greg soaked in the tub and allowed the jets to pound his aching muscles, he thought to himself, _Well, he didn't hit me, or kick me out. Hopefully that's a good sign._

When Greg walked into the kitchen half an hour later, a strangled sound escaped Nick's throat.

Greg was clad only in a pair of loose gray sweat pants. They weren't so loose though that Nick could miss the tell tale tenting of material over Greg's desire.

Whirling around, Nick steadied himself by putting his hands on the counter beside the stove. His chest was suddenly tight, and he found it difficult to draw breath. "Greg!" he nearly couldn't force air out to make sound, "I- I can't do this!" Oh, God, he wanted to, though! His jeans had become unbearably tight and restricting.

"Can't do what, Nick? Have dinner?" Greg asked innocently, as if he hadn't said anything earlier. Grabbing a plate, he piled it high with left over spaghetti from the night before.

Setting the plate down near Nick's right hand, Greg whispered, "I can help you with that!"

That strangled sound escaped again, accompanied this time by a shiver.

As Greg moved away to fix his own plate, Nick spoke again. "I know what you're trying to do. It won't work!" with that, he picked up his plate and a fork and stalked from the kitchen.

Greg heard Nick's footsteps on the stairs and figured Nick had gone to his room. Under his breath, Greg said, "It's working already."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

For the next several days, Nick did well to avoid Greg. When they did have to be together – usually so Nick could show Greg some chore in need of being done – Nick kept his distance. In the evenings, Nick would grab a plate of food and retreat to his room to eat.

He'd been in the saddle nearly all day this day, and he was sore and felt grimy. Looking forward to a long soak in the jacuzzi tub, Nick listened for the door across the hall at the head of the stairs to close, which would signal that Greg had gone to his own room for the night.

In his parents' bathroom, he started the water, then went back to his room to grab his dinner dishes to return to the kitchen.

Back in the bathroom, he closed the door, stripped and climbed into the tub.

Sinking into the steaming water, he sighed. A few more minutes, and the tub was full, so he turned off the water and turned on the jets.

Leaning back, he let his head rest against the edge of the tub, his eyes closing in contentment as the day's abuses to his muscles were worked out.

The jacuzzi motor was just loud enough to cover the soft opening and closing of the bathroom door.

"Mmm... Bet that feels good!" Greg's low purr made Nick's eyes fly open, and he sat bolt upright. Nick turned his head to find himself face to face with Greg, who was on his haunches, head resting on his crossed arms, which were on the edge of the tub.

"What the hell! Greg, get out!" Nick tried to make his voice low and dangerous, but it wouldn't cooperate. Instead, it acted like he was a teenager again, cracking in a disturbing fashion.

"Um, no! I think I'll join you," Greg said, straightening to a standing position.

He strutted to the sink, hips swaying provocatively, and Nick found himself unable to turn away or close his eyes. He licked his lips unconsciously.

As Greg touched a button on the CD player he'd brought in the bathroom with him, low sensuous music filled the room. Nick was sure there were lyrics, but his mind couldn't wrap itself around them and what Greg was doing.

His back still to Nick, Greg swayed to the music, his arms moving slowly up his torso, brushing across the sides of his cheeks, up above his head.

Nick couldn't tear his gaze away. The thought of escape crossed his mind, to be quickly dismissed as the only way out lay beyond Greg. Plus, he was not going to try to get past Greg with nothing on. That would surely lead to disaster.

Continuing to sway and move, Greg slowly turned around, his hands going to the buttons of his brown striped shirt. One by one, he opened the buttons, exposing his tanned chest.

And there was that strangled sound escaping Nick's throat again.

Slipping one hand into his shirt, Greg teased his nipple, moaning in pleasure.

After bringing his nipple to a hard peak, Greg trailed his fingertips down his stomach, then back up again, finally pushing the shirt off his shoulders. It fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

Still swaying to the music, Greg allowed his hands to travel over his body again.

His eyelids were drooped heavily over his eyes, but they were still opened, and he watched Nick watching him, noted the hitching breath, the repeated lip licking, the flushed skin.

With the index finger of his right hand, Greg traced an invisible line down the middle of his chest to the waistband of his jeans, then down the denim over the bulge of his hard on.

Trailing his finger back up again, Greg brought the other hand down, and slowly began to unbutton the fly of his jeans.

Turning around again, Greg slid his thumbs into the belt loops at the back of his jeans. Pulling down, he began to ease the material over his brief enclosed ass.

Now he pushed the jeans down the rest of the way, pulling his bare feet free. As Greg once again turned to face Nick, he watched Nick gasp at the sight of Greg's raging erection dampening the light blue briefs he wore.

Still swaying to the music, Greg pushed his index fingers into the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down just far enough to give Nick a peek of what lay beneath.

Yet again, Greg caught that strangled sound from Nick, and there was no mistaking the effect it had on him, as his cock jumped beneath the constricting blue briefs.

And this was as far as Greg went. He knew that if he removed that last article of clothing, he wouldn't be able to restrain himself. He'd jump in that tub and take Nick.

Quickly gathering his shirt and jeans, Greg clutched them to his chest and moved to the door. Nick watched him owlishly, unable to believe that Greg hadn't made good on his promise to get in the tub.

As Greg reached for the door knob, he looked back at Nick and said, "Don't fight Fate, Nicky!" then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

Finally able to move again, Nick leaned back once more. Taking a breath, he plunged himself under the now tepid water, and came back up sputtering for air. He was so hard it hurt, but he refused to touch himself, because if he gave in to that temptation, he might give in to the one down the hall. That couldn't happen, dammit!

A small voice in the back of his mind told him it would, though.

Much to his own chagrin, he believed it.

A/N: Isn't Greg such a tease! evil grin I do hope he's doing a good job of seducing Nick!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

As the days passed, Nick continued to do everything in his power to keep away from Greg. He worked late into the evening and tried to give Greg so many chores involving hard labor and brute strength that the younger man would be too physically exhausted to even think about seducing Nick. And Nick remembered to lock the bathroom door whenever he used the tub.

It was early afternoon, two weeks after Greg's arrival.

Greg was out in the stable, mucking out the stalls, sweat pouring down his face, dampening his shirt around the collar, chest, and underarms.

He paused in his work, wiping his face on his equally sweaty arm. Nick had left early to check the herd up in the south pasture, and Greg knew he would stay out until it became too dark to work.

A horse whickering brought Greg's head around toward the stable's main doors.

Copper trotted into the stable, reins trailing along the ground, saddle empty, eyes rolling with fear.

Careful to move calmly – as Nick had shown him – so he wouldn't further spook the frightened animal, Greg approached.

Snorting and stamping a front hoof, Copper eyed Greg warily before whickering again.

"Easy, boy," Greg spoke soothingly.

Finally getting hold of the reins, Greg patted the horse's sweaty neck.

The horse returning to the ranch without Nick meant something must have happened.

Fearing Nick was injured, Greg debated mounting Copper, but the state the horse was in and Greg's limited experience made that a bad idea.

Tying Copper up to deal with later, Greg moved quickly to Missy's stall. Knowing there were corners that just couldn't be cut, he cleaned her hooves and quickly brushed her before saddling her.

Climbing into the saddle, he urged her to a canter, then a gallop in the direction he'd watched Nick ride that morning.

The fact that Copper was sweaty when he returned to the stable told Greg the horse had run quite a distance, so he kept Missy at a steady gallop until she began to sweat, then he slowed her to a walk and began calling Nick's name.

He really had no idea how long it was until he found Nick.

Scrambling down from the saddle, dropping the reins, Greg rushed to Nick's side.

Nick was sitting on the side of the trail, one hand held to a nasty lump on his head.

"Nick! Are you okay?" Greg asked, skidding to his knees in front of the other man.

Looking up at Greg, Nick said, "Is Copper okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. He's fine. He's back at the stable. Are you okay?" Worry clouded Greg's eyes.

Nick's gaze seemed a little out of focus. Greg laid his hand on the other man's cheek, trying to make Nick focus on him. For once, Nick didn't pull away. Greg wasn't sure, but he thought Nick might have even leaned into his touch a little.

"Head hurts like a son of a bitch!" Nick finally said.

"Do you know if you lost consciousness?" Greg asked worriedly, gently pulling Nick's hand away from his head to look at the lump.

"No, I didn't. Ow!" was Nick's response.

"Sorry," Greg apologized, as he tenderly explored the area with his fingertips.

Nick hissed in a breath, and reached up. He grabbed Greg's hand, pulling it away from the lump. He examined Greg's fingers for a moment before saying, "You have nice hands, G!"

Blushing furiously, Greg said, "Okay, I think it's official. You have a concussion, Nicky!" Rising to his feet, he pulled Nick up with him. "Let's get you back to the house."

"You only brought Missy?" Nick asked.

Shuffling his feet in the dirt, Greg said, "Uh, yeah. I was worried about you. Can she carry both of us?"

Nick's brow furrowed as he thought. "It'll be a bit of a strain for her, but as long as we don't rush her and let her pick her own way, it shouldn't be a problem."

The stirrups were adjusted for Greg's slightly longer legs, so he had to sit in the saddle. After mounting, Greg gave Nick a hand and soon Nick was perched behind Greg, his arms around Greg's waist.

A shiver went down Greg's spine when Nick murmured into his back, "I've dreamed about this." He pulled himself as close to Greg as the saddle would allow, resting his chin on Greg's shoulder.

When one of Nick's hands roamed down from Greg's waist to the bulge in his jeans, Greg pressed his back into Nick's chest.

"Nicky!" his voice was low and rough, barely recognizable to him.

"Hmm..." Nick replied.

"Nicky, I think you hit your head a bit harder than I thought." Greg held the reins in one hand. Grabbing Nick's wandering hand with his other, he brought it back up to his waist.

A disappointed sound issued from Nick's throat.

"You're not thinking straight," Greg said, then regretted his choice of words.

Nick didn't seem to notice, though. His hand was wandering again.

"Look, Nick. Mmm..." Greg grabbed Nick's hand again. "At least wait till we get back to the house, please!"

The ride back to the house seemed to last forever. It did take longer than the ride out had, since Missy walked all the way back.

Leaving Missy tied in the stable next to Copper, Greg promised them he'd be out to take care of them as soon as he'd made sure Nick would be okay.

Pulling Nick's arm over his shoulder, Greg helped Nick into the house and up the stairs to his room.

Greg hadn't been in Nick's room before. Maneuvering Nick into the room, he saw it suited Nick's personality. All the furniture was a lightly stained pine. The queen sized bed had both a headboard and a footboard, and it and all of the rest of the furniture had prominent knots in the wood, adding character.

Sitting Nick on the bed, Greg pulled his boots off, and helped him lay down.

"I'm going to go get an ice pack and some pain reliever. Stay awake!" Greg said, turning away.

Nick's hand caught his wrist, pulling him back. "Don't need either of those. Need you!" Nick rasped. Very deliberately, he made that strangled sound in his throat that drove Greg wild.

A moan escaped Greg's throat and he took a step back toward the bed.

"Nicky..." Greg trailed off, when Nick pulled his hand up to his mouth and slowly sucked his index finger in.

Now that strangled sound was issuing from Greg's throat, and he was sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes were locked on Nick's mouth and what he was doing to Greg's finger.

Pausing, Nick growled, "God, I see why that drives you wild!"

"You have _no_ idea!" Greg rasped, toeing his boots off.

Leaning forward, Greg murmured, "Are you absolutely sure you're not going to regret this tomorrow?" By this point, Greg was really beyond caring, as he'd take Nick once over never, but he so wanted it to be more than once. Forever would be nice!

"I'm sure!" was all it took.

Greg brushed his lips across Nick's, shivering at the near electric shock of that first touch.

Reaching up, Nick put his hand on the back of Greg's neck, pulling the younger man closer as the kiss deepened.

Groaning into Nick's mouth, Greg took a fistful of Nick's shirt and pulled it from the waistband of Nick's jeans. Pushing his hands up under the material, Greg reveled at the feeling of toned muscles and soft skin.

Breaking the kiss, Greg helped Nick gingerly pull the T-shirt off over his head, being mindful of the swollen bump.

Climbing on the bed, Greg straddled Nick's hips and leaned down to kiss him again. This time, he concentrated on Nick's taste. There's some trail dust, but most of Nick's taste is just indescribable and all Nick.

Nick's hands fumbled at the buttons of Greg's brown striped shirt, the same one Greg had removed during his strip tease.

Pushing the shirt off Greg's shoulders, Nick pulled himself to a sitting position, licking his lips at the thought of kissing and tasting Greg's chest.

As Nick's mouth went to one nipple, his hand went to the other.

Greg's moans told Nick that the nipping, pinching, licking, and rubbing he was doing were perfect.

Arching his back, Greg thrust his hips forward, rubbing his aching length against Nick's through the denim of their jeans. Leaning down to capture Nick's earlobe in his mouth, Greg murmured, "Want you so bad, Nicky!" His hands find their way to the fly of Nick's jeans.

After opening Nick's jeans, Greg pushed his hand inside, palming the straining erection.

"Ah..." Nick moaned, as he thrust towards Greg's hand.

"Like that?" Greg murmured in Nick's ear, getting an indecipherable sound in return.

Pulling Nick's face to his, Greg kissed him greedily, before pushing Nick back and kissing a searing trail down Nick's neck and chest.

Next, Greg pulled Nick's jeans and boxer briefs off, exposing his aching need.

Beginning at the base of Nick's cock, Greg ran the very tip of his tongue across the heated flesh, all the way to the slit, where he lapped up several drops of pre-cum.

"So hard... Need this so bad!" Nick mumbled, tangling his fingers in Greg's hair.

When Greg's lips encircled Nick's head, Nick bit back a scream and the urge to come right then.

Sucking in his cheeks, Greg reveled in the moan Nick let out.

Finally, Greg took in as much of Nick as he could, bringing the tip nearly to the back of his throat. He slowly began to bob up and down, wrapping his tongue around the throbbing flesh in his mouth.

Nick allowed his head to fall back against his pillow, eyes rolling in his head at the pleasure.

With a final wordless yell, Nick came in Greg's mouth. Greg swallowed it all, loving the taste of Nick.

Licking his lips, Greg moved up until he was face to face with Nick again.

Nick pulled him in for another searing kiss, entranced by his own taste in Greg's mouth.

Without breaking the kiss, nick pushed Greg over on his back and fumbled with the fly of his jeans. Greg reached down and helped him, lifting his hips to push his jeans and briefs off.

Wrapping a calloused hand around Greg's shaft, Nick began to stroke him. Greg thrust his hips forward, into Nick's hand.

Nick could tell the younger man was nearing his own release. Moving down Greg's body, Nick began to explore Greg's length with his tongue.

"Feels so good, Nicky!" Greg mumbled breathily. The next sound from Greg's mouth was a shouted, "Yes!" as Nick took Greg all the way in his mouth.

A moment later, Nick was swallowing Greg's come.

Greg left long enough to tend to the horses, then collapsed on the bed next to Nick. He vaguely remembered waking a couple of times to check on Nick that night.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Nick cracked an eye open, groaning at the throb in his head.

God, it felt like he had a hangover! Shit! The events of the previous afternoon rushed back to him. Copper getting spooked by a damn snake and throwing him. Hitting his head when he landed, being too dazed to stop the high strung animal.

Then Greg riding up on Missy, the two of them riding back to the house together, and...

At that moment, Greg shifted next to him, nuzzling into Nick's back.

Headache mostly forgotten , Nick scrambled from the bed, grabbing his clothes and hurriedly dressing.

"Nicky?" Greg's still sleep addled voice followed Nick from the room.

Stumbling down the stairs, Nick tried to bring his breathing under control, as he was very close to hyperventilating.

Sagging down on the bottom step, Nick buried his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. His breath escaped him in shuddering gasps.

"Nick?" Greg's voice brought Nick flying up from the step.

Whirling around, Nick backed away from Greg, who was slowly descending the stairs.

"That wasn't... I can't believe... I never should have..." Nick couldn't seem to string his thoughts together into complete sentences. The look in Greg's eyes told Nick the younger man seemed to understand perfectly, though. Then Nick finally found a few complete thoughts. "Last night was a mistake, Greg. It never should have happened. I think it's time for you to go," Nick surprised himself at the coldness of his voice, and he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he didn't try to take them back.

Tears shimmered in Greg's eyes, as the finality of Nick's words settled in.

With a faint nod, Greg said, "Okay. I couldn't have stayed after that, anyway, because I just keep falling farther each day." As a single tear slid free, rolling down his cheek, Greg said, "I'll go pack my things."

When Nick heard the door to Greg's room close, he retreated back to his own room. But found he couldn't stand to be there. The evidence of their love making was still there, sheets in a tangled mess on the bed, the scent of their passion still heavy in the air.

He walked into the bathroom and through the adjoining door to another guest room. It had once been shared by two of his sisters.

Leaning against the wall next to the door, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up. Resting his head on his knees, he tried not to think. Because if he started thinking, he'd do something stupid, like going to Greg and begging him to stay. Or possibly blurting that he loved Greg. And those scenarios could _not_ be allowed to happen.

It had been drilled into him for so long by his family that men didn't love other men and women didn't love other women, at least not _that_ way.

Nick heard Greg's door close, then a few moments later, the front door opened and closed.

Pushing himself back up, he went into the hall and to his parents' room.

Just standing in the doorway, he looked into the room, taking comfort from the familiar surroundings. His parents' room had been furnished and arranged the same way since he'd been a small boy.

His eyes fell to his father's night stand, and the journal that rested there, as if waiting for Judge Stokes to come in and take it up. Nick had never touched it. Being part of such a large family, and living in such a relatively small house, all of the Stokes children had been taught at an early age how to mind other people's privacy. Judge Stokes had always left his journal sitting on his night stand, never once having to worry that anyone would pry.

Nick felt drawn to it, now.

Walking around the bed, he tenderly picked up the journal. Turning it over in his hand, he studied it carefully. The black leather cover had no extravagant designs on it, just a simply engraved double S, like the brand Nick had burned into the hides of his cattle.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he found himself unable to open the book, so he started at it for some time. He found himself almost afraid of what he might find between the supple leather covers of this book.

His father had never seemed the type to keep secrets, or a journal, but weren't journals for writing secrets in?

He just sat and stared at the book for at least an hour.

Finally, Nick carefully opened the book to the first page. The first entry was dated about a year before his parents' death.

Laughing about something his father had written, Nick felt compelled to read the last entry.

It was dated a few weeks before Nick's scheduled departure for Vegas, just days before the accident.

_Pancho has told us he's transferring to Las Vegas. The crime lab there is one of the country's finest, and I know he'll do well for himself there._

_I have decided I need to have a serious talk with him, as I don't want him to have the same regrets I have._

_The kids have never known the truth about me. Meggy has never said anything, but I'm sure she knows. How could she not? A wife knows when her husband doesn't love her as he should. She knows I could never find true passion with her, though I did my best to make her happy. She deserves so much more than that._

_I regret not allowing her to find happiness. She would deny not being happy. She would talk about the six healthy kids I gave her. Two strapping boys and four beautiful girls._

_I regret not allowing myself to find happiness. I blame that on the way I was raised. I was raised that it was wrong to have these desires. I raised my kids that way, too. I just pray I haven't damaged Pancho._

_When I talk to him, I'm going to tell him to follow his heart. Wherever it may lead. If his happiness is found with another man, then so be it. I don't want him to come to the golden years of his life with the same regrets that I harbor._

A wet spot appeared on his dad's neat script, followed closely by another, and Nick realized he was crying. He'd never imagined his father had harbored a secret as big as this!

His own father had been gay, and even regretted hiding that part of himself. Not only that, but he'd known about Nick, wanted Nick to be himself.

Could Greg have been right about them being Fated to be together? Nick wondered.

He was afraid he'd royally screwed up any chances he'd had with Greg, but he was willing to try.

Replacing his father's journal reverently on the night stand, Nick bolted out of the room.

He took the stairs two at a time, and ran full tilt to the stable.

Slipping the halter over Copper's head, Nick cleaned the horse's hooves and brushed him down in record time. Not bothering with a saddle or bridle, Nick vaulted onto the horse's back, spun him with the lead rope, and urged him into a gallop.

It had been a little over an hour since Greg had left, so he should still be on the dirt packed drive.

Knowing there were numerous pot holes in the drive way, Nick used his knees to slow Copper to a trot, and allowed the horse more control over direction, so he could avoid the holes on his own.

It took about twenty minutes before Nick spotted Greg ahead of him.

The sound of Nick's voice calling Greg's name brought the younger man to a halt. Greg didn't turn at first, and Nick could see him reach up to wipe his eyes.

Bringing Copper to a stop a few feet behind Greg, Nick slid off the horse and dropped the lead rope.

As Greg slowly turned to face Nick, the sight of his tear stained face and rough, "What!" nearly crushed Nick.

Taking a careful step forward, hands held in front of him as if Greg were a spooked horse, Nick said, "Greg, G, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me! I was an idiot, a stupid, fucked up, idiot! There was nothing wrong with last night! It was perfect! I loved it - I love you!" He had continued to slowly advance on Greg as he spoke, so by the time he said, "I love you," he was close enough to touch the younger man. And touch him he did. Taking Greg's face gently in his hands, Nick looked into Greg's eyes before leaning in to tenderly kiss him.

Pulling back a moment later, Greg breathed, "You didn't hit your head again, did you?" There was a wary look in his eyes.

Resting his forehead against Greg's, Nick smiled, "No, but I think I got slapped upside the head by Fate."

An eyebrow raised curiously, Greg laughed, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I read my dad's journal. The last entry was a few days before he died. He was going to talk to me, before I left for Vegas. My dad was gay, Greg. And he knew I was gay. He wanted to tell me to be happy. I only ever resisted because I thought my dad would be disappointed in me. He just wants me to be happy," Nick finally trailed off.

Greg put a hand on Nick's cheek, "Are you sure this is what you want? I couldn't stand it if you changed your mind again."

"We belong together. I know that now. Come on, let's go home!"

Nick pulled Greg over to Copper, vaulted onto the horse's back and helped Greg vault up behind him.

Scooting up as close to Nick as he could get, Greg wiggled a little, so Nick could feel the bulge forming in Greg's jeans. "This is much better than the other day."

Nick grabbed one of Greg's hands and pulled it down to his own bulge. "Yes, it is! Hang on, G. Copper can handle the both of us at a canter," Nick smiled over his shoulder, urging the horse on.

"Is today delivery day, Nick?" Greg asked when the sound of an engine reached their ears.

Groaning, Nick sighed, "Yeah, it is."

Nuzzling into Nick's neck, Greg nipped, then began to gently suck at a patch of skin below Nick's ear.

"What the... Greg!"

"Just want to make sure she knows you're mine!" Greg growled playfully into Nick's ear.

Millie's truck drove up behind them, then past, nearly running off the dirt track, as Millie turned to watch Greg's hands wander over Nick's chest.

Nick waved, a bemused expression on his face. "Good thing she already knows about me," he chuckled.

Back at the house, Millie was walking back to the truck for another load to take in as Copper cantered up.

Greg slid off the horse's bare back, followed closely by Nick.

"Hey, Millie!" Nick said, as he took Greg's hand and pulled him toward the door. "Need you to add a couple items to the list of usuals."

"Yeah? What's that?" a glum look had spread over her face at the closeness of the two men.

"Condoms and lube!"

A wide smile spread across Nick's face as he watched both Millie and Greg turn bright red.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

5 months later

A United Van Lines truck was backed up to the house, the movers loading the last of the furniture and boxes in as Nick and Greg watched. Nick's truck, two horse trailer hitched to it, was ready gassed up and ready for the journey.

Nick was standing beside Greg, leaning into the slightly taller man, arms wrapped around Greg's waist.

"Not having second thoughts, are you, Nicky?" Greg asked gently, rubbing his hand over the other man's back.

"If anything has become glaringly obvious to me over the past year and a half, it's that I am _not_ cut out for ranching! Give me a bloody crime scene to process any day!"

Greg laughed at Nick's aggrieved look. They had decided four months ago to move to Vegas. The head of the Vegas crime lab, Gil Grissom, had told Nick that if he changed his mind, the job was still his. Greg wasn't sure what he was going to do yet, as office romance was forbidden at the lab, but he knew that with his skills, he could find just about anything he wanted. He just hoped he could get the hours he wanted. With Nick working the graveyard shift, he wanted something comparable, so they would be able to spend their off times together.

The ranch had been sold, the cattle and the horses – except for Copper and Missy – had been sold, and they had bought a place on the outskirts of Vegas with enough land for Copper and Missy, and a nice house.

The door of the trailer box slammed closed with a clang, causing one of the horses in the horse trailer to whicker and stamp a hoof.

One of the movers walked over to let them know the moving van was ready to pull out, before going back to the moving van and climbing up in the cab with his partner.

Looking up at Greg adoringly, Nick said, "Let's go home!"

As Nick pulled the truck out on the dusty drive way one last time, Greg couldn't help but think that Fate was finally bringing them to where they were supposed to be.

A/N: Well, this is it! Hope you all liked it. Leave me a review to let me know. Can't get better if I don't know what I did wrong, and all that stuff. :)


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